The Blind Man's Contumely
by Hey Nonney Mouse
Summary: After saving the life of a Priestess on a new world, Kirk and Spock are gifted with a bond that they were neither expecting or even aware was a possibility. Together, they must deal with this new intimacy, built upon a foundation of reluctant and tentative camaraderie. Kirk struggles to find his place in Spock's life, while Spock comes to terms with exactly what that position is.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

"Personal log, Stardate: Thirty-three twenty-five point four

I am at an even greater loss to understanding the nature, complexities, and all encompassing enigma that is my first officer."

The soft glow of the ships lighting reflected off the metallic lid of the jar resting upon the delicate knitting of a fleshy palm. He watched it spark and fade with each turn of his wrist, trying to both reconcile the sight of the tissue floating within the formaldehyde, and ignore the emotions the last couple of months brought to him.

"At times, he is so completely withdrawn from me that it seems any sort of friendship is beyond our grasp. Yet, he seems to come out of left field with a sense of compassion and loyalty. Nay, it is, I know not 'seems', but it does leave me with a fear for my own heart. It is not possible for him to be both unfeeling and compassionate, and yet I can't find a way to explain one or the other away."

With a weary sigh borne by shouldered emotions and a conundrum of a life, Kirk set down the container; a brief flare of thought was given to calculating the length of time it might take Bones to realize it was missing. Jim smiled at this, before finishing his motion by rising to his feet. Movement was incredibly necessary at this time.

"While searching for McCoy in the 1930's, Spock's unyielding logic to the circumstances with Edith Keeler was infuriating; to say the least." Jim brushed his fingers against the tricorder placed unassumingly upon his desk. It was positioned in such a manner as to hide the scorch marks it had received when the radio tubes had blown out.

"His emotionless ultimatum of an innocent's death still makes the hair on the back of my neck stand. It was obviously the only option present to our situation, but each justification Spock gave could not put an end to the gut-wrenching feeling that I could have done more. That I could have saved her. I will never be able to deny the logic of what I allowed to happen, but that does not change the fact that in my sleep, I still dream of McCoy's accusing cries."

Jim's fists balled together, taking most of his fraying control to keep from flinging the tricorder into the nearest, or furthest, wall in his quarters. "Do I really know what I've done? Was there truly no other way? Did I just accept Spock's statement as the only route, simply because he is Spock?"

Running his fingers through his hair, as though the act itself was pulling upon a string linked directly to Kirk. With a graceful grip and passive pull his spine straightened and his shoulders braced together.

"All foolish questions, I know. I find that I am second guessing myself lately where Spock is concerned. I strive to find the friendship I know is possible between us, yet more often than not, I feel myself reaching for it, for him, but my attempts are not met with his own. He is unwilling, or simply, incapable of meeting me halfway.

"How was my other self able to break through such high Vulcan walls? How do I achieve a place in his inner sanctum? Is it even possible for a person like me?"

Kirk paused his ramblings at the sound of his own chuckles, pulled from him by the ridiculousness of the situation. How many others paced to the beat of questions and comparisons to those of themselves. Jim felt it was necessary at times, even if it proved to be totally pointless.

"Another illogical piece that is James T. Kirk, I suppose. Edith stated that Spock belonged at my side, 'as if you've always been there and always will.' Such a clever woman lost to our history. A shame she had to come at such a backwards time.

"Even _her_ insight could see the distance Spock keeps himself. I fear I will never hear my name come from him. Should he actually use it, I am certain it would come out as Captain, anyway."

Jim's pacing led him over to the screen partition separating him from the bedroom. His mind still too restless for sleep. "How can we ever become some great and destined command team? I believe the apathy is what gets me the most. Hate is simple enough to turn into affection. Passion is passion, no matter the form. But without it, how does one become important to the other?"

His ever active feet take him back to the desk where that disturbing jar continues to sit. It was the only piece of Spock he could hold onto, and it was a piece that had caused his Vulcan officer so much pain. Jim was sure that was the real representation of their relationship, that really wasn't the correct connotation for what laid between them. Interaction seemed far more neutral. The only way Jim was able to draw any sort of feeling from Spock was by manipulating the pain and loss Spock was already harboring.

"He is capable of emotion. That is not what is at question, especially not after the events of Deneva. I know he does not ask of those what he is not already willing to do. I forgave him his callous view of Edith's life the moment he offered to be beamed down to Deneva and commit himself to death with the other million inhabitants. I can still visualize that raised brow as I vehemently denied such a solution. It terrifies me to see him so willing to sacrifice himself for others with the ease of reciting Surak's teachings."

Jim picked up the jar again, the cold of the glass echoing down his spine and back up to burden his shoulders.

"So selfish of me. Bones was right, it was not simply my unwillingness to sacrifice so many that kept me searching for an out to that scenario. I would not accept the loss of Spock, my brother in arms, to the same thing that killed my brother in blood. To believe, Spock thought I would allow such a thing to happen."

More flickers of light as the bottle turns and shifts. The floating worm of tissue spins and bobs, giving life where there is none. It sent Jim's mind back to each instance when Spock had twitched. A constant reminder of what he was suffering through. His Vulcan control, a source of uncompromising faith for him, broken by jolts of immeasurable pain. Jim finds himself following Spock with his eyes now, searching for any sign of a fidget. There is nothing more serene to him now, than the unmoving perfection of Spock's posture.

"And yet, I did allow him to be a test subject, like he wasn't any better than the one they had just killed. When he revealed that he was completely blinded by the light, I took it as a simple casualty because at least he was alive, and he was free of the torment. As if my own heartlessness wasn't enough, I had the nerve to turn my anger on Bones when we found that the blindness wasn't even necessary."

Kirk fell into his chair, the strain of such revelations becoming too much for his exhausted body. His elbows fell upon the desk, bridging his fingers together and letting his head rest upon his flesh, his eyes upon the alien flesh dangling between.

"I can not allow myself to continue like this. It will only end with either myself or, more likely, Spock hurt beyond measure." Jim closed his eyes, his head rocking upon his hands. " I fear it is time I looked for answers in a more unconventional place, before even more can go wrong. The next two weeks will be spent en route to the planet Hudor. I will take that time to pull my flailing emotions into line."

One last sigh, filled with a bone deep wariness just as the one to proceed it, was picked up by the recorder before Kirk reached over to flick the switch and bring it to an end. The tense muscles in his neck eased once the jar sat upon his desk once more.

"Lieutenant Uhura," Captain Kirk commanded over the intercom following a second click of a switch.

"Uhura here."

"Please send a request for a personal conference with New Vulcan's ambassador to Romulus at his earliest convenience. "

The pause after his order was miniscule at best, but was further enhanced by the hesitance of her speech patterns.

"Yes, Captain." The why in her voice went unasked.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

_whoosh_

The doors to the Debriefing room gave it's standard announcement to the arrival of Captain Kirk. It was easy to feel the muted excitement coming from his bridge officers. This next mission was to be a simple meet and greet with the new members of the Federation. The inhabitants were also an entirely new humanoid species with abilities that have garnered at least five "fascinating"s and even one "intriguing" from the science officer. With so much interest in them, Kirk knew this was going to be a good exploration.

Kirk gave his crew a charming little smile as he moved to sit beside Spock on his right, who had taken his place next to the scanner controls at the end of the table. His Vulcan officer was obviously ready for his presentation.

"You've finished your conference call with Ambassador Selek, Captain?" Kirk glanced around Scotty over on his right side, giving Uhura his full attention. He did not appreciate her lack of subtlety. Especially when Spock's eyes snapped up from the PADD to stare blankly at Jim's turned head, chilling the already cold air between them.

"It was very informative, but of a personal matter, Lieutenant." Captain Kirk kept his eyes trained on his communications officer, his smile only widening as his meaning was acknowledged. Uhura's eyes dropped to the table, the faintest tilt of her head all he needed before bringing the room back to its original purpose.

"Commander, let's hear what you've gathered about Hudor."

Spock rose with a nod and PADD in hand. Jim couldn't help but give partial attention back to the conversation with the older Spock as he gazed upon the image of the swollen mass of a Class I planet's swirling gas clouds; so evenly lined up, a perfect discord. The contrast between the two was even more apparent when every nuance of Spock was so fresh.

"The moon is M class, and contains a similar oxygen, nitrogen atmosphere to Earth. The only discrepancies between the two is that, due to this moon's higher percentage of water, there is far more moisture in the air. The Class I planet's gravity has been detrimental enough, despite its distance from the host planet, to create a molten core from the friction of the gravitational warping as the satellite orbits the planet. As the host planet resides just outside the 'Goldie Locks' Zone, the M class moon is capable of sustaining life. Due to its combatant cold atmosphere and heated core it also has a most erratic storm system. Beneath the planets oceans are deep volcanoes that release a constant thermonuclear heat into the currents. Massive mountain ranges have managed to rise above the surface of the ocean, it is unclear whether this occurrence is due to plate tectonics, or due to cataclysmic meteor impacts. These volcanoes keep the water at a constant temperature ranging from twenty-one up to thirty-four degrees celcius, depending on how much energy and heat is released during the underwater eruptions. The thermonuclear heat creates a fog once it meets the cooler temperatures over land masses. The fog is of such density as to render sight down to a five centimeter range of visibility. Lieutenant."

Uhura switched the image upon the center screen for everyone to see the layered depiction of the planet. Oceans covered large portion of the planet, leaving only the tops of huge mountains able to peak out from its blanketing of the planet. Spock went into a detailed description of the air currents, weather patterns, and the thermal heating of the volcanoes. Jim stared at the screen, seeing a face full of wrinkles in his minds eye. Each thin line a symbol of the most minute of facial expression, and yet a truly unusual placement for any other Vulcan at such an age. Jim adored every one of them. They gave him little reminders of hope that it could one day be the same for his own Spock.

_"Greetings, Jim." _

_ Kirk felt the muscles all along his back, up his shoulders to where it met with his neck, dissolve at the sound of his name spoken with such a deep understanding. _

"With the heated air rising up and adding more moisture to the already cool, churning air in the atmosphere it often results in tropical storms. The mountains provide a natural shelter to these extreme wind forces. Since the village resides within a fairly large valley between the surrounding wall of rock, the storm loses much of its energy once it hits these walls and the much cooler air in the high-altitude atmosphere does a considerable job dissipating the heat, taking much of its strength. The storms still hold the potential risk of landslides." Kirk could see the scar of many past landslides providing a steep path directly down the mountain, through the large valley, and out to the ocean teeming with life bellow. "Captain, I believe the biggest challenge we will need to over come is the permanent fog that covers the village. It will be considerably difficult for us to traverse as sight will be hindered enough to not provide a timely forewarning in which to act appropriately to any unexpected occurrences."

Kirk nodded at this fact. If need came of it, Kirk was sure Scotty would be able to provide them with an alternate means of sight. While older Spock took an evident pleasure in being in Jim's presence, his Spock found it so deplorable he wouldn't even acknowledge that Jim was anything beyond a captain to him. It hurt to know that, but Jim was accepting of truths he has come across in his life. If they were unpleasant, it just meant they were more real.

_"Hello, Spock. It's really good to hear from you again. How's everything on New Vulcan going?" Spock's eyes flicked up briefly to take in a sight above the monitor holding Jim's face. Once those brown eyes returned to him, Jim could see a hint of amusement within those deep eyes._

_ "Jim, I believe you have already been made aware of my name change, and the purpose it serves."_

_ Jim offered a cheeky grin and a soft shrug to his shoulders, "I know, but I figured you'd appreciate one person who saw you for who you really are." _

_ Spock's eyes creased once more, folding in and accentuating the wrinkles already built over time at the edges._

_ "Your perception is always a gratifying presence, my old friend. I will admit to a certain level of pleasure at hearing my own name. I am honored you feel the need to speak it."_

_ The steady gaze of the wise Vulcan before him filled Jim with a pleasant restlessness. If he'd been able to, Jim would have touched Spock in any affectionate manner that would have been permitted to him. A hug seemed a bit much, for any Vulcan, but Jim was willing to bet this particular one would make the exception for him._

_ "I can see now what you find so…fascinating about this one captain."_

_ The sound of an unknown voice startled Jim out of his Spock induced haze, brought down by his sense of guilt at realizing that he had given away Spock's real name in front of another. By the infused amusement and the chuckle in response to Spock's own reproachful glance, Jim could tell it was someone that was not in the Vulcan Counsel, let alone permitted to know the strange circumstances surrounding the old Vulcan. Once more, those wizened eyes moved to follow the movements beyond the monitor, shifting from top to the left most corners of his eyes, obviously straining his peripheral view to keep the other being in his sight as they moved. Kirk couldn't see him still, but he was far too aware that this did not hold true for this mystery individual._

_ Confused, Kirk pulled his shoulders up tighter, his face becoming stern and his emotions masked to cover for his previous slip. This helped to also disguise the embarrassment Jim was currently battling with after acting so foolishly. He had wanted to simply bask in the comfort of a Spock that looked upon him with such open acceptance that he had dismissed Spock's earlier attempt to reveal the nature of his own lack of solitude before Jim could do more harm in exposing him. It just made Kirk more aware that he still had much to learn about Vulcan subtlety. It was not a revelation he took any sense of pride in. The younger Spock already held a great understanding of his own cues; picking up when he needed him to act in accordance to Jim's spur of the moment creativity in getting them out of odd situations. Even as he was scolding Kirk for his inability to fabricate a tale suitable enough to explain Spock's ears to the police officer in the 1930's, and the subsequent crowd they had managed to catch the attention of, he still disposed of the officer with a well placed nerve pinch as Kirk provided the distraction._

"Most life is aquatic, with a few that can be categorized as amphibians. The only creatures that are strictly terrestrial are the humanoids." With Spock's overview of the planetoid moon finished, the Vulcan returned to his seat with a prim ease.

_ "_Captain." His title used as a finale.

_ "_Thank you, Commander. McCoy, would you please grace us with what you've gathered about the humanoids specifically?"

Jim felt himself smile at the familiar grumblings coming from across the table, and the fact that Bones remained seated as he started in on his own presentation.

"Well, besides the facts that their noses are actually air holes located between their eyes up on their foreheads, and that their eyes aren't actually eyes at all, they're pretty damn close to being human. It's not hard to see that these guys originated from the sea. Their skin needs to be constantly hydrated, which the fog is more than capable of providing for them. Not to mention those short legs of theirs'. I bet it wouldn't take more than a few excavations to find some skeletal remains where they've still got fins."

"You said their eyes aren't eyes. How do they get around exactly?" Sulu prompted from McCoy's left side.

"That's the really crazy part. These people don't pick up the light spectrum at all. In fact, for all intents and purposes, they're blind. At least by our standards. Uhura?"

The screen switched over from the view of the planet to a basic depiction of the intelligent inhabitants bellow.

"As you can see, they don't have regular eyeballs. Those black spheres in their heads are just as sensitive as our own, but they hold a reflective quality to them. They look like some type of glass made out of flesh. Now, here's where it gets really weird." Kirk would have to pull McCoy aside for another politically correct discussion, but Jim could see his friends excitement in this 'weird' evolutionary trait, so he'd hold off on mentioning it until they were alone. There was no need to reprimand him in front of others.

"Instead of picking up the light spectrum, since there really isn't much of it capable of penetrating that fog, they actually see using the electromagnetic field of others around them, specifically the spikes and movements used to express emotions. Each expression and movement used, whether it be facial or gestural, gives off a burst of electromagnetic energy they are able to pick up like we do light waves. I can't even imagine what it must be like. As if that Vulcan mumbo-jumbo wasn't bad enough, you've got these guys able to pick up each and every emotion that is expressed, consciously or not."

"I can understand being able to find and see others in this manner, but what about the inanimate objects. Tables, chairs, or even entire building for that matter." Sulu was great to have around. Kirk, himself, was preoccupied wondering what it must be like to see energy given off by emotions. Were certain emotions brighter? More colorful? How would it feel to live day to day with people that not only knew everything you were feeling, but used it to see by.

"That took me awhile to figure out myself, and I came to realize that these people are absolutely batty." Bones certainly seemed pleased with himself at this statement.

"Doctor, if I am to follow your usual lack of logic in comparing the humanoids use of electromagnetic energy as a type of echolocation similar to that of Earth bats, I feel it is necessary to point out that since they originate from oceans, they are more closely related to dolphins and their use of sonar or even a shark would be a closer comparison. I find even that to be a gross over simplification of-"

"Of course you would, you green-blooded hobgoblin!" If not for the environment of the briefing, Jim would be all too happy to let those two continue their argument. It always helped release some of the tension between the three of them, an odd quirk that even Spock was incapable of explaining.

"So they see 'echoes' of the energy off of the things around them?"

McCoy picked up on Kirk's authoritative voice, something Jim never believed he'd develop, let alone have a use for. The Doctor gave a last irate look to its source at his right sitting as stoically as ever. "Not exactly. Some of the energy works kinetically, but most of it is absorbed into the objects surrounding them. This is what gives them a better basis for sight as all the items are absorbing energy constantly."

"Fascinating," Jim smiled at number six. The slanted brows reached a level of horizontal he hadn't seen in at least a month, and what a relief it was to finally see some enthusiasm from Spock. Kirk pulled his gaze away from his First.

_ "Please, Captain. There is no need to raise your defenses."_

_ Kirk was startled out of the state he had just begun to wrap himself up in. This time, by the actual sight of the individual stepping into the screen. He was now standing behind Spock, close enough that the screen threatened to remove the top of his head from Jim's view. "I apologize for the abrupt interruption to your conversation. I was merely curious to meet the man that is able to captivate such attention from one with such emotional control as..Spock."_

_ Kirk had been expecting another human, or rather, any other species of male, to be the source of that smiling face, but the brows and ears clearly gave away his Vulcanoid heritage. Jim knew he must have a look upon his face of both a childish wonder, and utter confusion. Neither one of them holding the level of command from mere moments ago. He quickly schooled his features, and closed his gaping mouth once he could see that both of the Vulcan's before him were exuding amusement at his reaction._

_ "Jim, may I introduce to you Sybok. Previously, he had been cast out of Vulcan due to his extreme views on logic and emotion."_

_ "I dare to believe that emotions are essential to all creatures, even Vulcans, and that by suppressing them we are suppressing a vital part of our existence and any means of advancement. With our race now on the brink of extinction, Spock-" Jim cringed on the inside at the smug satisfaction that fairly blazed in the near black eyes, as a smirk pulled at the stubble just starting to show on the angled, pale face. The rugged texture on the Vulcan's face enhanced the wild and extravagant appearance given by the erratic mess and lengths with which he kept his smooth raven hair. "Contacted me in hopes that our small group of Vulcans would come to the aid of our people. To assist in rebuilding and repopulation. Currently, we are in a much heated debate on incorporating our views into those of Surak."_

_"I thought Vulcans turned to logic to control the emotions that were leading to their own end? Hence, Surak's proposition to do as such. Now that you are at the brink of end once more, you suggest they embrace those same emotion again? You certainly don't take an easy route to change." The deep and freeing laughter that echoed in his own room from the communication brought his stomach to a tizzy with gentle warmth at the sight of a Vulcan enjoying such a simple display. _

_ "You are quite right on that one, Captain."_

_ "Jim," it never really occurred to Jim to wonder at what the differences in blood could do to a Vulcan gum line. Sybok certainly reveled in his joy at the invitation to speak informally, to Jim, he seemed all too eager to express his feelings._

_ "Jim. I feel now it is more important than ever. Vulcan, as a whole, must be rid of the pain they now suffer if we are to have any hope of progressing past this tragedy." A double blink over blue eyes was the only reaction Jim could give at the idea. Get rid of the pain? Maybe there was some kind of cultural or lingual confusion and Sybok was actually trying to convey a meaning of accepting and moving on from it. After all, pain is one more essential emotion needed to understanding all the others, with the way this Vulcan seemed to dive into his happiness it would be just as likely he was as happily consumed by all. It wasn't possible to fully appreciate the emotions worth living for without the entire spectrum at ones disposal. Pain made a person just as surely as happiness did. _

_ "I can see your point, and I wish you luck in trying to get the elders to see it as well." There was a moment of dissatisfaction from his friends gaze when Jim offered his support to Sybok, but he couldn't figure out what would bring it about. "How _are _things going on the planet, Spock?"_

_ "We are having difficulty finding enough help healing the minds torn apart by the sudden loss of so many bonds. For those beyond help, we have located replacements for their lost bondmates, even a few familial bonds have been assuaged by new minds. This is not the entire reason you have for contacting me, Jim. Sybok, if you would please excuse us."_

_ "Of course, Spock. I am pleased to have met you, Captain James T. Kirk. I would be most willing to speak with you again."_

_ "Nice to meet you too, Sybok."_

_ With pointer and middle finger barely parted from ring and pinky, Kirk attempted his best depiction of the Ta'al, his thumb tucked in close to the palm as his attention is taken up with trying to keep said fingers split. This earned him another weathered crease bracketing brown eyes from Spock and an open smile from Sybok before he walked out of sight of the viewer. Jim waited until Spock's eyes fell on him again before beginning this time around._

"Is that everything than?"

"Yea, that's about it, Jim. Since we've already been briefed by Starfleet about acquiring extremophiles living in the thermo vents. I wouldn't mind grabbing a few for the ship, if it at all possible, there are a couple of vaccines we'll need."

"I'll see what can be done about it, Doctor. Uhura, let's finish this debriefing up with some basics about their culture. Has their language been formatted into the universal translator?"

"Yes, Captain. It was rather simple, actually. The Hudorian language has a key dynamic we also use for the translator itself. It is not necessarily the words that are spoken that give them the meaning, but rather the emotion one puts into it. Without the translators, the Hudorians would still be able to gather the over all meaning of what you are trying to convey. Their means of speech is actually quite beautiful, Captain." It was easy to see the young girl captivated by the complexities of words when she spoke with such a fawning tone. "They don't use words, so much as sing. Depending on the rhythm and speed used, they communicate the emotion behind it. It's all rather melodious."

"Fascinating," it took some serious self control on Jim's part not to reach out and grasp Spock's arm. If this were Bones, and he were the one putting on such a show of giddy interest in something, Jim would have been all too happy to share in a little tactile support. Kirk knew better than to invade Spock's space in such an intimate manner, though. In all honesty, Jim had already learned this lesson, and the memory of the backlash from succumbing to his human needs for comfort and touch had left him with a deep sense of dread following behind any such urging again. It had seemed so right to take hold of Spock after the Vulcan had come racing down the tunnels to get to Kirk, insisting that Kirk kill the Horta. Spock had torn his hand from Jim's with considerable force, leaving his fingers tingling and sore from the strain they had endured. Kirk spent the next week with a First Officer that would not look at him directly. As if being ignored while spoken to wasn't enough of a punishment, Spock had also taken it upon himself to use Kirk's title like a reprimand. They had managed to take one step closer to one another, and Jim felt the shame of trying to angle more than was being offered to him. Which in turn forced Spock to correct this idea, and Spock was not one to leave room for error. He made sure that it was clear just where Jim's place was in the Vulcan's life. Right on the outskirts. Important enough to save his life, Jim was the one that needed to remember that for a being raised to view all life as sacred, it really didn't mean much when Spock went running in to rescue Kirk from the demise he had set up for himself.

"That's great. Any big cultural taboo's we, or more specifically, I should be aware of?" This got the snort out of McCoy he was hoping for, which gave Jim the excuse to grin like a loon, a good substitute to patting Spock's shoulder.

"Hudorians don't hold many things in offense, Captain. All emotions are held in high regard." Her voice had sharpened into her professional tones. He was sure his admittance to being a hardheaded oaf would be met with an agreeing eye roll and fond smile. She had been on his case recently for not being more knowledgeable in the cultures before running off to be a diplomat and representation of the Federation. She was more on edge than he had first believed. "For them, the only true crime against their beliefs and morals is to be in solitude. It is deplorable to leave one alone, or to force another into isolation. To be alone, is to give ones self up to darkness."

"Other than that, they are very peaceful. Fishing is the main source of both material and food goods. They see the ocean as both the source of life and death as it provides them with most of their needs. Even the tropical storms are a source of giving as it helps to keep the farms growing, yet they do not hold it as some religious icon. It is just a resource, admittedly, a very important one at that. I spent much time viewing their interactions, and from what I could tell, each member of the society is charged with the responsibility of helping those around them if they are in any form of emotional distress. It is a very frequent occurrence to see a person put a stop to everything they are doing to… 'embrace' another they would not normally speak to on a daily basis."

"Can you elaborate, Lieutenant?"

"Well, Captain, they will go over to rest their heads together. On some occasions, they even seem to nuzzle the other carefully. It holds a much deeper meaning and significance to the Hudorians. I believe it is not just a means of comfort, but a symbolic ritual. What it is supposed to symbolize, I don't know, but it is very vital to their culture and unity as a whole."

Kirk nodded as the additional information helped to better explain Uhura's reluctance over terminology. This was going to be a very exciting cultural exchange, he could tell. All his officers were intrigued by these odd little empaths. It would be nice to learn how they dealt with emotions. Not just their own, but every person they met. Certainly a thought that would be terrifying to most, and Jim couldn't help but spare a glance to his First Officer. If he had been hoping to see any of that fear displayed upon Spock's face like a little beckon to Jim, he was quite mistaken. There wasn't a muscle out of place on the perfectly withdrawn face.

Kirk felt as though Spock was slipping more and more into an emotionless mask, losing key parts of himself to a need to remain stringently in control. Then again, Jim could simply be transferring his own feelings after such an open and emotional conversation with another Spock that was far more time weary.

_"You seem lost, Jim. How may I assist in bettering your interaction with my younger self?"_

_ By this point, Jim just accepted that this Spock was already aware of his needs. Just one more tally in the differences column Jim has unconsciously started to keep in his head. With each one, Jim finds himself more and more curious to know who is the real variable causing such a change; Spock or Jim. _

_ So many questions race to be answered first. Do you think I'm different from your own Jim? Is there something wrong with me? Is there something wrong with Spock? _

_What came tumbling out was much more staggering._

_ "Do you play 3D chess, Spock?"_

_ How Jim cherished that crinkle at the corner of those eyes. A true homage to Spock's mother, and the gift she has given to her son bracketed by only the gentlest of expressions._

_ "Each defeat I suffered at your hands was a time spent in a manner I continue to treasure, Jim." He had never heard his name said with such feeling behind it. Jim wasn't certain exactly what Spock was trying to convey with that timbre, but he could tell there was more to it. It left him with a warmth along his back, and a weight upon his chest. _

_ Jim would swear the Vulcan had a direct line to his shoulders, and was all too pleased to remove the heftiness that resided there. To those knowing eyes, he must look on the brink of collapse. That the control he kept on his own emotions was about to break him apart and allow his sorrows to overcome him. _

_ It was a look that he wore after Edith was struck by a car and he clung to Bones in a desperate plea for it to not be real, but the pain he felt told him what he was already well aware of. It was also there at that moment when Sulu had announced that the Galileo Seven had burned up in the atmosphere of Taurus II and he had been convinced he had lost Scotty, his Bones, and Spock all to the same fate. _

_ Every molecule of self-control Kirk possessed was used to keep any hint of his quiet, internal breaking from showing to the crew. That is what being a captain really means. To be a success, one could not let anyone else know what an actual mess they really were on the inside. _

Is that all Spock saw of him? Was the Vulcan incapable of believe a human able to keep such emotions in check?

"Well, if nobody has anything else to add about the Hudorians…" Kirk made sure to give a long enough pause with one hand held open to any that had a last minute word of wisdom, "then we shall get the preparations underway for beaming down. Mr. Scott, I would appreciate it if you ran a last minute check for any sudden storms."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Sulu, you're at the conn. The Klingons have been trying to get this planet to join with them as well. Be sure to inform us the minute anything poses a danger to either the landing party or the ship. Scotty," Kirk turned to his Chief Engineer, his expression relaxing just a bit, "should the Klingons try to engage the Enterprise, you get her out of here. If you haven't got the time to pick us up first, you know what needs to be done."

"Aye, Cap'n." Kirk hated to deflate the man, especially after such a high energy conversation, "but I don' like the thought of it."

Jim smiled and clapped Scotty on the shoulder, "I know Mr. Scott. Just don't forget to come back for us."

"As if I should forget, Cap'n."

"Alright! Spock, I want you, McCoy, and two security officers to accompany me down to the surface." At the sight of a singularly raised brow, Jim gave an obnoxious grin. "They're a peaceful people, nothing to be afraid of, plus, if we go down with a large group, each one carrying a phaser, we're more likely to scare them than anything else."

Spock took in Kirk's reasoning, returning it with a nod of assent. Jim really liked to add tallies to the similarities side.

"Dismissed."

_"I feel like that's all we are. Two chess pieces alone on a board. He is the king, and I am a pawn trying to checkmate him. Neither one of us can move more than a single space at a time. Without him moving towards me, we are incapable of even finishing the game. How do you catch a king with a pawn?"_

_ "There is no situation in which you are incapable, Jim. You have simply not discovered the correct solution yet."_

"Commander," Kirk prompted as the debriefing came to its close and everyone rose to exit. Spock ceased his upward motion, returning to the seat once more.

After the other's had finished departing, Jim turned to fully face Spock, glad to see that Spock had moved to do the same.

"Are you alright?"

"I am adequate, Captain, but I know you are not looking for a generalization of my state of being, so I must request more information on exactly what it is you wish to know." With his increased knowledge about Jim and his inner workings, Spock continually finds it unnecessary to beat around the bush with a round of pointing out the illogical nature of Jim's human questioning. He kinda misses their little word plays before getting down to business.

"Come now, Spock. Everyone could feel the tension in the room between you and Uhura." Another raised brow let Kirk know that Spock doubted that claim very much. "Well, given the partial evidence available, Mr. Spock, one is only left to believe that a language based solely off projecting emotions seems to have upset our Communications officer."

"I do not find it is of any importance to the situation at hand, nor is it pertinent to the running of the ship that you are made aware of such things, Captain." Kirk's attempt to explain that it was necessary, seeing as he was able to find traces of it showing up during duty hours, but Spock continued on, leaving Jim a fool with his mouth partially opened. "Even so, since persistence is a main element to your character, I will inform you that Uhura and I ceased our personal association approximately 4.36 weeks prior to this conversation."

A month ago? How could it have taken Jim so long to notice such a thing.

"What happened, Spock?"

"Again, Captain. I do not see how such information is necessary to the running of this ship."

"Its not, but I would like to know what could cause you two to break up. I was sure…" that the only reason you still turned so cold on me was because you believed I wanted to take Uhura away from you, "you two seemed so close. I'd like to make sure you guys are alright. I don't want either one of you emotionally distressed."

"As Uhura was the one to bring it to a close, and I am Vulcan, I can assure you that there is little distress, emotional or otherwise, lingering from our parting. The tension you perceived is merely our attempt to fit into a purely profession manner once more."

"Aren't you still going to be friends?"

Spock's eyes turned to look directly into Kirk's own. "Vulcan's have no need for friendship. Are we finished, Captain?"

_"I wish I could hold such confidence, Spock. Its been rather difficult lately with the younger you. It's as if my presence is nothing more than another burden he has to contend with_."

_"I can assure you, Jim, that is not the case. Spock has many burdens to carry at this time. You must be there for him when he is ready to let another assist him. He has not been spared the torment of broken bonds. I went through a similar loss in my later years. I can not imagine what the younger Spock is going through as I already had a close confidant in my own Jim at the time."_

"Would you be interested in playing a game of 3D chess with me this evening, Spock?" Kirk was embarrassed to hear the plea in his own voice, and even more so at the single word response given before Spock left the Debriefing room with a soft _whoosh._

"Negative."

Jim continued to stare at the portal Spock had just escaped through. Not even an explanation given, just flat refuse and a hasty retreat.

_"Continue to be patient, Jim."_

Kirk shook his head in disbelief before setting himself upon his own feet. Now was not the time to contemplate the dismal actions of his First. Kirk was needed at his best to help the new members of the Federation ease into their place. Peaceful, they may be, it did not mean that negotiations will be simplistic. After all, they were both just starting to get a feel for one another.

Captain Kirk flexed his back muscles, pulling his spin into line tightly, before striding out of the doors himself. He was needed in the transporter room.

Kirk wanted to look over the patterns of weather himself before the beam down. After being split in two, Jim was starting to look on the McCoy side of life when it came to the transporter. Not that he would admit that to the man. Ever! If given even the slightest bit of support on his phobia, Jim will still hear about it long after he is dead and gone.

The whoosh of the doors snapped Kirk out of his musings. It really wasn't all that shocking to see he was already in the transporter room. He'd made sure to have the debriefing on the same floor, as always. It helped to move things along when you limit the need for the turbolifts. Each corner cut helps sometimes. It was a relief to find that Spock and McCoy had not finished their own preparation yet, and it was just him, Scotty, and the transporter.

"Everything going alright there, Mr. Scott. I'm not going to end up listening to McCoy's justified hatred for this unnatural contraption, am I?"

The Scotsman gave a hearty laugh that even Jim could feel vibrating in his own stomach. "Nah, Cap'n. The seas cool enough we don' 'avete be worryin' 'bout any tropical storms jus' yet. I've got mey eye on the temps of the ocean, and any volcanic activity that might feel the need to surprise us. There is a bit of a bounce back comin' from the fog, though. I'm workin' on correctin' for it now, sir."

"Good man, Scotty."

"Better be, or you can be sure as shootin' I ain't going down there just to shake hands with some crazy-eyed midgets." Jim was starting to wonder if the politically correct speeches were just giving Bones more reason to use a species defining characteristics as insults.

Jim rested his hand upon Bones' shoulder, giving it a little shake as the doors opened to admit Spock and the two man security team. The Vulcan continued not to bother with words as he headed straight for the transporter pad, stopping over the marker on the left from the center. Kirk gave a parting squeeze to McCoy's shoulder before heading for his own marker on the pad. McCoy right behind him to make his way to the one on his right. The security team stepped in behind.

"Alright everyone, I don't want any of you pulling a phaser. Not unless it is the absolute last resort. The Hudorians are not a great enough threat to warrant such hostilities. We need them to join us, not just for the Federation, but for their own sake as well. Am I understood?"

The resounding, "Yes, Captain!" brought a smile to Kirk's face. "With the formalities out of the way, lets go meet the new kids on the block, shall we."

"Energize." Scotty gave a cheery wave behind the glass barrier as the transporter lit up in it's oddly ethereal destruction.

The first thing Jim was aware of as they finished rematerializing was the crisp clean scent of moisture on the air. It invaded his nose with a brisk pleasure Kirk hasn't felt since he was in Iowa and there was a hint of rain floating upon the wind. The second was the sight of primitive farming tools, and even a couple basic swords thrust close to their faces. The fog made it seem as if they were merely floating there of their own will.

"Peaceful, my as-""Easy, Bones."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"Easy, Bones."

Kirk was already in the process of raising his arms away from his body as carefully as possible. He made sure to convey nothing but a peaceful and non-threatening air. It was a relief to see the movement from the corner of his eyes that let him know Spock and McCoy were following his lead. It would be far too obvious to those before them that they were attempting to become aggressive, as with each movement their intentions were broadcast in Technicolor waves to be absorbed into everything around them. Kirk was curious to know if the Hudorians were also able to pick up the irritation expressed in the sigh McCoy gave as his own arms moved above his head.

A sharp note belting out, deep like a growl, was the only alert Kirk had before one Hudorian stepped closer, placing his blade in a more advantageous potion to one of the security members behind Kirk.

"Stand down!" Apparently, not everyone was willing to go along with the quick surrender Kirk had in mind.

Kirk's order broke the rising tension into motion as the group moved in tighter, finally at a point where they were able to see the actual bodies of those in front, and another wave of improvised weapons behind them.

The dark orbs were a shocking contrast, drawing the sight into an infinite point of nothing. Bones had labeled them black, but that wasn't a fully accurate depiction. They were not colored black, but rather held absolutely no color at all. They were completely devoid of anything, even light in this foggy atmosphere, and yet clearly not empty. Each pair seemed to take in every part of him, down to his very atoms.

Their faces weren't exactly flat where a nose should be, it had formed a rounded curve in it's place, but didn't hold any type of cartilage protrusion as many humanoids. Two black dots sat right where eyebrows should have started on humans, between each of their eyes. A half circle of raised flesh surrounding them. It was likely developed as a means to keep water from flooding into their lung equivalents. Spock had said they closely resemble that of dolphins, maybe those holes closed up while they were submerged.

"There is no need for such actions. We are here from the Federation to offer protection and aid." Spock must have been tired of Jim's gawking, and was all too happy to move things along.

A near unnoticeable glimmer of light seemed to reflect off each Hudorians head. Out in the sun, Kirk was sure it would sparkle and shine like crystal, even hidden beneath mounds of hair, as it was. It was hard to be certain, but it looked like each one of them had pulled the entirety of their hair up upon the tops of their heads through those circlets. A veritable fountain of silver strands falling from each crown.

It was no surprise their eyes stood out so clearly in the thick white cloud around. Their flesh was smooth and a near blue pale. A sickly pale that made me think of death. With only varying shades of gray atop their skulls. But you should have seen the fog, how it moved between the bodies - with slithering wisps - with haunting embrace, with camouflaged dissimulation, they moved together! I was forced to watch the flesh and air blend and melt into one being. Spears and swords were left to float and drift among the ever thickening mist that slithered - oh, how it slithered- slithered (like a charging snake), and coiled around each leg before traveling up along their sallow clothes. It was the eyes! Yes, it was them! They were staring out from the rolling fog and I could only keep track of them by those dark empty eyes.

"What Spock says is true. I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. We bring you no harm. We only wish to help. Can you understand us?"

A female voice from the back gave a delicate, "Yes." This was meet by another short note sung in a sharper pitch and manner, causing the young woman to dip her head in a show of sheepishness. Jim smiled, seemed everyone was having trouble getting people to go along with their plans, it also seemed that the universal translator didn't quite catch that phrase. How could a language based off translating emotions not be read by a translator that does the exact same thing?

The confusion in the crowd only increased at Kirk's actions, and they started to shift from place to place. Moving in a mass of uncertainty. An older Hudorian stepped forward past the tools held by hands marred from hard days out in the oceans. The older male's hair came down to his shoulders, and Jim could swear he watched a few strands flutter and writhe, but did not feel the brush of wind upon his face. He figured it must be more of the mist and strong air currents. The Hudorian, now standing before Kirk, sized up to about his shoulders, but his own shoulders and chest were broader than Kirk's, even in his dusk years he would not go down easily. They weren't terribly outside of an average height for humans, but in comparison to Bones, Spock, and himself, they were definitely lacking.

"Your emotions do not seep like the Lavaworms. Do you represent their views?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"They are the ones that came before you. They wished to scavenge our waters. Our Priestess has already made it clear that we do not want you on our world. You can take your weapons and leave. We are not in need of such items, and we _will_ be willing to fight you down to the last merchant to keep you off our lands."

"Captain, I believe they are referring to Klingons."

Bones let out a loud bark of laughter which startled the surrounding group. A few of them stared off behind him, probably watching the patterns from Bones' crowing. Some even started to lower their weapons, it must be one hell of a show that the Doctor was putting on.

"One of the best damn description I eva' heard for a Klingon." Jim's smirk returned at the sound of Bones' drawl.

The older humanoid smiled faintly at McCoy's acknowledgement. "You are not with the Lavaworms. Why do you come to our world when we deny them privilege to our waters?"

"We want to extend our services in advancing your medicines, and to offer assistance should the Klingons, or anyone else that seeks to take your home from you, come back. We share in the belief that everyone within our reach is worth helping." Kirk tried once more to get them to see they meant only to aid the Hudorians.

A murmur went out through the crowd. So many voices mixing together scrambled the UT briefly, giving them an insight to the symphony of songs as each attempted to get their feelings heard. Bones was openly shocked by the musical sounds emitting from the excited mass around them; Spock was Spock. He was taking everything in with one brow raised and a nod or two interspersed with some of the words picked up by the UT.

"You speak pretty words, and your hue-saturation shows a truth to them, but we have seen many sweet words turn sour." The muttering around them picked up once again. Another voluminous body pushed forward. His face spoke of fewer years on the planet, but his posture told of a level of authority that many backed down from.

"The Priestess found the truth in the Lavaworms, she can find it in these creatures as well."

"We would be more than pleased to speak with your Priestess about our honesty. We hold no fear of our truths." Kirk's arms lowered as the elder stepped closer still, his dark eyes filling Kirk's vision. Within the abyss Kirk saw a swirl and blending of colors never before conceived by artistic human minds. They seemed straight out of a dream, reflecting and glimmering from the distance of the empty gaze. How unimaginable it must be to live in a white world and forever see such beauty.

"I do not find taking other worlders to our Priestess as a wise action. They hold many dark places hidden within, I would not risk her life for them." Once again, Kirk was left with his mouth agape as he built up to defend their sincerity. It was imperative they find a way to secure such a unique life from any form of taint. They had the potential to bring a new dynamic to the entire Federation. Jim could feel his chest swelling and his shoulders stiffen with courageous intent, ready to defend their goal. "But in the name of the (collective, communal, group, people, individual, one), I will." The UT offered the best it could in place of the tune given. They held a greater understanding of a oneness that encompassed such a vast majority that it could not be translated into standard with one simple word.

The younger Hudorian gently rested his forehead against the elder's, both sets of eyes closing as their faces went lax with nostalgic bliss. Strands of sterling blue and a pallid gray tangled together, "Thank you for hearing my thoughts, Fishing Chief."

It was astonishing to watch the tension visibly melt from the elder as he moved his forehead in a delicate nuzzle against the younger. "I will always hear you, My Second. It is the way of the (communal) and so it shall always be. Farming Clan!" The order was shouted out as the Fishing Chief pulled away from his own second in command as their damp silvery hairs cling together in a plea for further intimacy.

"Take the off worlders to a hut and guard the entrance. No one is to enter or exit it until I have spoken with the Priestess. She will be warned of you and any trickery they may try to pull. If she deems it a worthy expenditure of her time, then I will come to gather them, as the Second and I have agreed upon." Suspicious hollow eyes fell upon the Starfleet officers as the crowd agreed to this compromise, a few continued to stare at Spock with open confusion.

Kirk was willing to be taken into holding as they consulted their Priestess. These people were willing to take a more diplomatic direction, something that would get them even closer to a treaty with the life on Hudor. It was unsavory to be under such suspicious sentry, but if it got their foot in, it was still better than the Klingons had accomplished.

"To keep your Priestess safe and to reassure your worries, we are more than willing to go with you. There is no need for aggression, just lead the way." Kirk's words received a nod from the Chief, and an appraising look from the Second.

"These people have a pleasant energy, Fishing Chief. I believe they will offer us a more reasonable change than the ones before. Peace comes so gently from their centers." McCoy gave a disgruntled grumbling from his side. There weren't many humans that could see it, even those that had spent years with the man couldn't get beyond the masks.

The elder gave them another look that cast his doubts in their direction. "They are full of aggression and hatred too. It leaks from their minds and forms a stain on their eyes." Kirk could practically hear Spock's eyebrow launch itself towards his hair. "I understand your fascination with these beings, Second, but remain weary, there are many things that are a mystery to us."

Kirk and company followed behind 3 men and a woman carrying tools that looked similar to the old earth hoes and scythes. 5 more trailed behind to keep them from attempting any form of escape or attack. Kirk was grateful the ones up front made sure to stay within sight. To have being lost in the fog mistaken for fleeing would do no one any good in such a high stress situation. With them so close, and a free minute to finally take them in completely, Kirk found himself admiring their clothing. There were slits in the flowing white of their pants facing their shins and up to the knee. As they walked the fabric fluttered behind their legs like curtails. Most males went without an accompanying top, while some wore a vest that had short strips of clothe that danced behind their backs. The women's pants were of the same design, while their tops left their stomachs revealed, it was a solid covering for their chests, ending at their shoulders and covered an inch of their throats. Two longer lengths of material flowed down like wings from their backs and were tied off around their biceps. There was just enough material to guarantee freedom of movement in any activity as they didn't even fall passed their lower back.

The building they were led to just appear before their eyes. Kirk had been expecting a small wooden dwelling, held together by nails or other basic bronze constructs. He was not prepared to see such mastery of architecture. If the dwellers of Earth's Mesa Verde had been forced under ground due to a near random danger of extreme storms, mudslides, and floods this would be their crowning achievement.

With the help of the massive forms surrounding them, the amount of fog was decreased enough that they could see the many holes within the side of the mountain that gave away the position of the Hudorians housing. To an untrained eye, it looked like an abandoned hive; cold, dark, and empty. Kirk was left to wonder what the Hudorians saw. The porous quality of the rock must help to absorb, not only water, but the energy waves radiating off all the buzz and activity within. For them, it must practically flow out of the basalt like it had a life of it's own. Each mass of portals was accompanied by a much larger opening that sat upon the scatterings of ledges higher above the ground level. The humans and one Vulcan gazed upon the archeologist wet dream in all its prime glory. McCoy was the only one unimpressed, in fact, he looked down right pissed at the realization that they would be climbing up to one of those ledges.

"At least we don't have to worry about the hand holds being out of reach."

"Damnit Jim! I'm a doctor, not a spelunker!"

"As the tunnels we are sure to traverse are not natural, but created by the Hudorians, it is not classified as a cave, Doctor."

"You can't tell me having to climb up fifteen to twenty feet in the air just to get to the goddamn door is logical, Mr. Spock."

"On the contrary, Doctor-"

"Isn't it always."

"As the high levels of precipitation add a quantity of moisture highly conducive to slope movement, it is clear the solution to the debris and mass wasting, as a result, would be to create a dwelling that is not within the path of the resultant slope failure."

"What, you mean they decided to dig into a mountain to keep out of the way of mudslides?! You said those were rare, anyway."

"After rebuilding an entire civilization due to a natural phenomenon, it is logical to find a new means of co-habiting with said phenomenon. It is with a vast sum of stubbornness that would have a species continuing to reconstruct in the exact placement as previously with every destructive force."

Jim wanted desperately to laugh at the look of thunderous furry liable to rival a Hudorian hurricane. Kirk simply allowed a faint smile to play with his lips.

"At least we know how to make a home and stick to it! Ain't no force of nature that will keep us from livin' the way we please."

"Those 'Forces', Doctor," Jim seriously needed to learn how Spock was able to fill a monotone statement with overflowing amounts of sass, "have been occurring for over 4 billion years. It is undeniable that human obstinacy is the root cause for their belief that they are more deserving of the landscape ravaged by the natural disasters. You, Doctor, would equate it to that of the offspring between equus caballus and asinus."

Kirk could no longer hold it in. With his head thrown back, Jim released the bubbling force of humor, "Humans are as stubborn as a mule, Spock?"

"As I have just stated, Captain."

Jim turned to smile at Spock. He hadn't heard Spock's teasing humor for quite some time. With his head cocked to the side for a better vantage of his First Officer, Kirk could see the open confusion on the Hudorian farmers that followed behind. They would glance at Spock before whispering hushed tunes between them.

They finally stopped before a series of hand holds traveling up to an inconspicuous hole in the wall. A younger boy strapped his sickles on his back to the belt like band that crossed from left shoulder to right hip before making the climb. He started with both right hand and foot, using them to lift himself from the ground and up upon the face of the mountain. When the middle aged female started with a left hand and right foot, Kirk was relieved to know that they hadn't found a need to mimic the Mesa Verde people in this respect as well. It would have been a pain to have been forced to crane his neck in a bid to follow the pattern of hand and foot holds so that he wouldn't end up stuck in an inescapable position on the side of the mountain. With an island for a home in a rampaging sea of winds and underwater volcanoes, it was easy to see why these people did not live in fear of outside threats.

The way the Hudorians had acted in such an organized assembly to keep them under control revealed a level of training undertaken to thwart a small group of individuals. They weren't ready for an army, let alone a war, by any means. It would be curious to know just what kind of internal disruptions could result in the need for such actions. With their abilities to see the emotions of every body within eyesight, the chance of manipulation were pretty high. To use such a position of power for personal gain would be terrifying to those that relied on the same vision. Forced to see every emotion driving those sinister action at their pinnacle. Or worse, to be witness to the ones that felt nothing at all. Surely being blind would be a blessing after that.

Kirk looked on at the Hudorians' hesitant actions, and the weapons they still carried in an even deeper light. They still hold the innocent touch of a budding world with an oddly trusting air, but they have seen the actual darkness within their own beings. That must be why they have moved passed a simple "Garden of Eden" blissful ignorance.

Spock stepped back to allow Kirk and McCoy to attempt the climb before him. Jim felt his lips pull with the affection for his protective Vulcan. As First Officer, he was duty bound to keep his captain alive, and therefore, it is only logical to be certain the doctor best suited for that remain capable as well. Jim could feel a level of fear at this show from Spock. It would not be impossible for him to catch one of them should they lose their grip, but it was not going to be a simple task either.

Kirk calmly scaled the wall, giving off a flair of ease only afforded to those that made it a living to free climb mountains on a daily basis. Due to the porous nature of the rock it made the tips of Kirk's fingers ache with each pull up. It would be sure to leave marks behind, if not any cuts, by the time he reached the top. McCoy's hands were going to be bleeding by then as well. Kirk had at least acquired a leather coating over his hands after frequent practices with the sword and Sulu. Compounding it with the calluses made while working on the farm and he had a good line of defense against the digging rock beneath his palms. To lessen the chance of doing any real damage to his skin, Kirk put more effort into his legs, lessening the need for upper body strength. He was going to figure out if all the Hudorians had tough skin on their palms as an evolutionary gain from spending lifetimes within a cave, or if it was built over time.

It was close to the halfway point, that Kirk could tell, when he started to hear the grumbling coming from below him.

"Space isn't so bad, Bones. You'll see. Plenty of fun new worlds to explore, shore leave far from your ex. Think of all the new medical miracles you'll find."

Jim laughed quietly to himself as the Bones bemoaning expression started, right on time.

"Whadyatalk! Whadyatalk! whadyatalk. Whadyatalk!" Kirk fired out in rapid succession. "Youcantalk. Youcantalk. Youcanbicker youcantalk. Am I right, Bones?" His inflection oscillated between sharp and soft pitches with each repetition, being sure to put emphasis on all the hard consonants as obviously as possible. It gave his speech pattern a fast pace with hard sounds bracketing the soft middle.

Jim didn't need to be witness to the actual act of Bones rolling his eyes at the release of his heavy sigh. "Oh yes, sir. Yees Sir. Yeess Sssir. Yeesss Ssssiir." In counter point, Bones brought his pace to a gradual crawl, being sure to keep all focus on the sibilants, drawing it out into a near hiss of sound tucked between a few soft vowels and an r for a stopper.

Jim was glad they would not be testing the theory that Spock could, in fact, catch one of them.

"Captain, I hardly think classical musical quotes are within your prerogative as a commanding officer, nor is it necessary at this juncture."

"And you'll never understand why it is a necessity, Spock, so you're better off just adding it to your list of crazy human traits you'll never be privy to."

"A most ingenious prospect, Doctor. It would be quite disturbing to find myself with the ability to navigate through the random and passionate thought process of humans. I am gratified by your continued insight into my study of faulty reasoning."

"You cold-blooded bastard!"

"It is also gratifying to hear that you are knowledgeable in basic Vulcan biology."

McCoy's frustration hit its peak, forcing a quiet laughter of silence between the two, though Jim could be projecting from his outside view. Kirk was no slouch at riling up the good doctor, and yet he looked like some green ensign, fresh out of the academy. It's far from the first time Spock has made him feel this way, but Jim can never sum up any type of ill will for it. It's just one more part of who Spock was, and Jim couldn't keep himself from admiring all the parts of this enigma.

"Alright children! We're almost there. Spock, if you yank your brother's hair again, I'm going to pull this car over."

Jim was grateful when his fingers finally grasped the expansive flat surface of the ledge as an entirely new silence descended upon them. He wasn't sure what had brought the uncomfortable air to their playful banter, but it had reduced Spock's teasing to such an immediate end that Jim would swear he could smell the pungent aroma of abused brakes. Kirk shrugged it off as hopefully some Vulcan taboo he broke once more. Jim sorely wanted it to be a misunderstanding between cultures, he'd hate to know he had some how managed to offend Spock on a personal level. Frustrating is as inadequate at describing Jim's state of being, as uncooperative is at explaining a psychotic, revenge possessed Romulan's actions. He wasn't sure how many more times he could slam against Spock's reticence skirting at the ankles of every warm, decent moment shared between them before he finally lost it. As they were escorted into the lightless room, Kirk made sure to hold his head centered and capable of meeting each individual on an equal level, even if he wasn't able to actually see them.

A sharp whistle like note brought Kirk to a stop, one leg still bent at the knee in preparation of continuing his forward motion. He ignored his need to finish walking in favor of bringing his hands up as fleshy shields from the invisible force pounding upon his eardrum. As soon as the all encompassing ringing that signaled the lose of another audible pitch faded, Kirk could feel an object just brushing the section of his pants that covered his shins. Should he have finished his step, not only would he have been taken down, but it would have left a livid bruise and tears in his eyes.

"Shins, an apparatus used to locate furniture in the dark." It fell pretty flat as far as jokes went for Kirk, but it helped to ease some of the tension he felt at being so completely blind.

"There are plenty here. How is it you almost walked into a table? Especially one so clearly placed in the center of the room?" A soft female voice asked from 10 o'clock.

"Isn't it obvious yet? We don't see the same way you do. Our eyes pick up a certain spectrum of light. We're totally blind in this damn cave."

A few voices could be heard arguing at 10 to 1 o'clock. They were either lined up or grouped together, either way, Kirk was just barely able to tell they were beyond the table before him at the back of the room being used for their detainment. This new fact seemed to seriously disturb the farming Hudorians. The pitch dropped rapidly as strings of notes came out in quick staccato. Kirk was hesitant to move anywhere, and his eyes were unable to adjust to this complete darkness. Trusting the positioning of his Vulcan, Kirk leaned back slightly and to the right.

"Spock, are you able to make anything out?"

"Negative, Captain. Vulcan eyes have been developed to withstand high levels of light and radiation." Jim was sure that was the closest Spock got to admitting a fault in the Vulcan design. Didn't help their situation any, though.

"This is unacceptable!" A firm voice declared from behind Kirk at the entrance way. "No one should be without sight. It is barbaric to make others suffer alone in emptiness."

There was rustling of clothes and movement. Jim had to focus on the sounds to keep his apprehension down as he was unable to get any sort of visual cue to what was going on around him. The darkness seemed to be moving in closer with each breath, trying to take away his air before finally snatching away the sounds that drifted around him as well. Ready to swallow him and leave nothing.

Kirk closed his eyes to cut off the stream of mind trickery that was coming from the depths surrounding them.

As he sat within his voluntary solitude, working to take silent breaths as a means to occupy his mind with a single focal point in his body. A coping mechanism learned over the years, and through horrors no child should be made to endure. If Jim ever got up the nerve to discuss such things with Spock, the Vulcan was sure to be- Spidery strands of silk brushed and clung to Kirk's face so suddenly that he was nearly positive he had left his skin upon the ground in his panic fueled haste to leap away. When he hit the warm body that refused to budge, Jim sent up a silent thanks to Amanda for bringing Spock into this world. If he had crashed so forcefully into anyone else, he would have taken them both to the ground. As it were, Kirk was merely left with the taste of his bleeding pride stuck in the back of his throat like unripe cranberries; bitter and lingering. Jim gave Spock's tension wrought arm a pat in gratitude as he moved to a more reasonable distance from his First Officer.

"Please, Captain, be at peace. The sight of such unbarred isolation is most distasteful to us. Let me help ease your troubles. Such tortures are unbecoming of our people." The female was adept and well used to the tones necessary for soothing frightened and abandoned children. Even as the last words were spoken with a disapproving anger, she made it clear they were not meant for Kirk. Her voice did not lose any strength, indicating that whomever she was addressing must be in the general vicinity of their group since she didn't need to turn her gaze else where. It was possible she was speaking to the ones at the door from where they had come.

"I am just as opposed to it as you, -" once more the UT missed a word, but the deep baritone vibrations left Krik with a calmness and peace only achieved by the resonance of his lady _Enterprise_, "I will always hear you. Captain, how can we bring sight to you and your people."

"In order to see, we'll need lights. We can use some of the tools we have available at this moment to construct something. If you allow it, we would be able to contact our ship and have supplies brought down for us as well."

"It would be best if you did not have use of your tools. We are not prepared to handle such things. Are there other ways?" The deep voice from the doorway had spoken closer than before

"Captain, judging by the limestone in areas closer to the ocean, I calculate a high probability that flint stone, or another indigenous quarts of similar piezoelectric properties should be readily available."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. If you get some long pieces of wood and put clothe or a kindle at one end, we should be able to make torches. With the help of a fire of course."

"We understand fire. We have many uses for many different rocks. It is most interesting that you should use it as a means of seeing, it is a great asset to our tools and other key components of our way of life, but never before used in such a manner. How do you keep it going long enough to see at all times?"

Kirk turned to the left at the gallop of words that came from almost 5 o'clock. The inquisitiveness did not take an empathic sight to detect. A healthy well of curiosity was essential to all civilization that had the will to advance. A good sign indeed.

"You three! Go gather the necessary items." Kirk felt Spock shift in closer to him as the Farming Chief gave out the orders from his side now. Spock didn't seem too comfortable with the arrangements either. He'd say it was somehow logical to be weary of the random movements from those surrounding them with their main source of input reduced by one hundred percent. Never would admit to being nervous in the dark like Kirk.

Another cacophony of fabric and singing was the only clue that some of the Hudorians had left to undertake the task set for them. The sight of vague silhouettes like the moons shadow against the night sky signaled a small portion of light was filtering through. Without being able to ask Spock, Kirk just considered it a result of the fog thinning slightly. It still wasn't enough for any real visualization. A dark blob taking up the most space in his vision let Kirk know the female with the soothing disposition was still close to him.

"I am going to grasp your hands and take you to come sit in a more comfortable place, Captain." She had definitely spent her time caring for those in need as her warning was swiftly followed by an equally gentle touch to his hands. Kirk twisted his wrists to leave his hands in a relaxed supine within her gentle grasp. Her palms were not leathery like he had theorized. The skin was warm, but silken and damp. It wasn't like flesh that was soaked and wrinkled, as Kirk was sure his own was going to be after one days' time. It was as though each drop fortified their skin, sitting on the top to help keep it taut and firm. To compare it to that of a dolphin or eel would give you the basic idea of the flesh stretched across their muscles and tendons, but Kirk found it to be lacking as a real description. It didn't have that rubbery texture that let water roll right off; rather the water so abundant in the air was rapidly swallowed up like the flesh of a cactus, leaving only a vague coolness that was overtaken by the warmth radiating out from their bodies.

"You feel very strange, Captain."

Kirk allowed both corners of his lips to pull up. Even though there was no light to see by for the humans and one vulcan, he was confident his charm was broadcast to the sweet creature directing him to a chair of some kind. He let his thumb travel the distance from right to left, enjoying the crests and valleys of her defined bones as he was pulled to the right and navigated parallel to the table. It took a mere six steps and one more to the left before he felt the tug of his pants at his knee when it brushed against the seat. With torso still facing the Hudorian before him, Kirk shifted his hips to sit upon the plush chair.

"So do you, my dear." It took Kirk a couple seconds to realize the fluttering vibrato of notes coming from his right was her laughter. Webbed threads brushing against his face didn't startle him this time around. Each little strand of hair left a kiss of bubbling humor that burst when they hit his mind.

His eyes slowly closed as his attention was taken in by each pop, and it was only when the joyful effervescence swamped the lingering traces of unease, effortlessly coaxed into a blind terror each time he was left sightless and alone, that he became aware of the forehead resting against his own. It was only a shallow sense of warm pressure in the wake of the gentle ebbs and flows that lapped at his consciousness like waves of happiness. "I will be your eyes for now. You are not alone, Captain."

The breath Kirk released as she pulled away left his shoulders light, his chest echoing the same weightless pulsating as if his heart was lifting him higher, and the explosions ricocheting down his spine. "You are carefree like a child, easy to bring joy and laughter, yet hold the sorrows of one who has lived well beyond their life."

"That's me, James T. Kirk, oxymoron extraordinaire." The vibrato came again and it brought a smile to his face wide enough to reveal the sugar cubes hidden beneath his parting lips.

"Captain is not what you are called?" Kirk turned his head in the direction of the entrance to his left. The man that spoke must be the guard at that doorway.

"I am a captain, and my people refer to me as such, but my actual name is James Kirk." While he was talking there was the soft shift of fabric that was all too familiar to Kirk that came to stand at his right shoulder. The vibrant tension he could feel coming from the body behind him brought a sense of completion to his relaxed state. Spock was very diligent in staying within a reasonable distance of his Captain.

"Yea, yea, yea. Well, I'm a doctor, the names Leonard McCoy and I'd really appreciate it if someone could direct _me_ to a chair as well. This standing around is getting tiring."

"Come Doctor Leonard McCoy, you are not far." A trill rented the air, "Take the other two over to those chairs. It is bad enough they cannot see; let's not make them stand alone." The masculine voice of the Farming Chief traveled from the doorway over to where Kirk had heard McCoy speaking from in front of him. Judging from the internal map he'd started and the distance of Bones' voice, Jim guessed the doctor was just passed the table.

"Much obliged."

"Captain, in light of this recent development I find we will be best served to have Mr. Scott construct a means of visual aid for us if we seek to continue interaction with the Hudorians." Spock's breath skimmed the edges of Kirk's left ear. His First Officer must be bending down in a bid for more privacy between them.

Kirk placed his bent elbow upon the arm of the chair he sat upon, hand against his chin as he nodded his acknowledgement. "I was thinking the same thing, Spock. We'll have to wait until after the priestess finds us to not be any kind of threat though. Are there any other observations you'd like to voice?"

"They are cautious, but not unreasonable. From our brief interaction I was able to theorize that they hold multiple levels of leadership within their society. The Priestess is the matriarch, but unimportant decisions are delegated to leaders within individual trade divisions. The Fishing Chief holds the position just beneath the Priestess, giving him command of all the other leaders. Also, I am not aware of the actual processes, but I believe the roles of leadership are chosen by the Hudorians."

"It would certainly explain why there is a second in command."

"Precisely, Captain. The second holds an opposing view to that of the Chief, most assuredly as a means to encompass the thoughts of the Hudorians as a collective, and not a singular view point. I would be most intrigued to study this governing body in greater detail."

A voice whispering from his right stole Kirk's attention, "Jim, I'm curious to know why this blasted translator isn't picking up all the words. I thought Uhura said their language was easy. All these people do is express emotion, so what the devil is going on?"

Something Kirk had been pondering as well.

"Any thoughts, Mr. Spock?"

"Only a hypothesis, Captain. I do not have substantial data to support or disprove it at this time."

"Well, you just let us know when you reach a conclusion then."

"Of course, Captain." The sound of Spock's confirmation faded slightly as the Vulcan straightened back up.

"Good, you have returned with the supplies." Kirk's head snapped in the direction of the Farming Chief. "Captain James Kirk, where would be the best placement for your fire?"

Kirk leaned forward in his seat to give his full attention to the Farming Chief, even if he was unable to see him. "If you can keep it on some rocks so only the wood burns would be best. I don't want to set this place on fire if I can avoid it. The closer to the center though, the easier it should be for us to see the entire room."

The hollow clunking of wood echoed longer than Kirk was expecting, giving him the first indication that the room they were in was not as compact as his mind led him to believe. Soon, the sharp clack of solid rock being banged together gave life to sparks that flashed and died in quick succession from directly across the room. It gave brief light to the circle of Hudorians at work trying to bring sight for the blind humans invading their home.

"You must hold the flint at a distance no greater than four point one six centimeters to the kindle for the piezoelectricity to ignite the fire."

All movement stopped and Kirk got the heavy feeling on his shoulder that lingered with the weight of many confused gazes. Understandable, it was always difficult to follow along with what Spock was saying. "He means you've got to hold the rocks closer to the pile to get it going."

The clicks and sparks started up once more, bouncing around the room like fireflies. The second Kirk was able to see a faint flame upon the ground he shifted to the edge of his seat. "Now give it some air."

The little flame gave an ethereal glow to the pale face of the Hudorian that still held the pieces of flint as he breathed life into it. Each gentle puff of oxygen brought it closer and closer to giving them a full view of the room they were being guarded in. It did not take long before half of the room was illuminated and Jim felt his jaw relax and fall agape at the sight. It was certainly much grander than he had mentally envisioned. Even as the flame struggled to grow to a full roaring fire, it easily brightened the mirror like walls.

A black nearly as dark as the Hudorians' eyes encased the entire oval shaped room. No doubt a type of volcanic glass closely related to obsidian. It didn't exactly reflect the light, but absorbed it and let it spread throughout the face of the rock. From the looks of McCoy, and both ensigns it was obvious to see they were not expecting such beauty either. The ceiling was vaulted a good 2 or 3 meters high at it's most. It came down in artistic ledges and indentations around the walls to give it a less rounded feel. At the pinnacle and center point of the spherical space was a six point hexagonal crystal, as if it were a chandelier. In fact, single crystals stuck a few centimeters out of the walls like light fixtures as well. As the fire began to flood the entire room, said crystals glowed and flickered with the dancing flames.

The floor was the same glassy quality, but held random streaks in a multitude of colors spreading out from a central point beneath the table, Kirk assumed, he had almost walked into.

"Well I'll be…"

The Hudorians' abandoned their focus on the fire at the sight of the Starfleet officers gazing about the room in clear shocked awe.

After getting his fill of the structure, Kirk turned his attention to the actual furniture beneath him. He had simply assumed, judging by the texture against his palms, that their main source of material came from the ocean and seeing as the fabric did hold that rubber like quality of most aquatic mammals, it was likely to have been from that sort of marine life. The Earth bias to be offended by the thought of slaying the long since extinct life was put out of his mind quickly. This was a new world that had not exhausted the so called resource. These Hudorians looked upon the ocean as the source of all life, and a force that could easily take theirs away.

Kirk ran his palm over the plush arm and watched as the dark brown lightened as the micro fibers were pushed in the opposite direction.

"A most notable display of architectural and geological knowledge. Structurally, they are advanced well beyond the implication of their primitive farming tools."

Even Spock was impressed. Jim turned to share a knowing look with McCoy, only to grin even wider at the sight of the man. Due to the heavy moisture, Bones' hair had become quite damp on top. It was still fairly dry, giving the grump a flat look like he'd been sweating under a cap all day.

"You better keep your trap such, Jimmy boy. You aren't exactly looking your charming best, either." Jim's smile promptly fell and he quickly ran his fingers through his hair. Brisk flicks of his wrists flung the excess water droplets out before he smoothed it all back, aiming for a slicked-back look as opposed to a half drowned rat motif.

Turning his head to the left, Kirk tried to get a good look at his First Officer, hoping to catch the Vulcan looking even a _little_ disheveled for once. Kirk was sorely mistaken again. He looked immaculate as ever. The high amounts of fog did nothing to dampen that bowl cut. Each little droplet of water found upon those inky strands only helped to enhance its silken look like dew drops on a black web. Jim would admit to a level of bias on this too. As he was taking in the sight of his faintly flushed Vulcan officer, Kirk caught an almost hidden twitching of muscles. Jim was immediately on alert.

"Spock, are you alright?" Spock gave a minuscule shift of his hips, a movement that signaled a need for a more stable stance in most. It had Jim gripping the arm of the chair as if the matter of him flying out of it hinged on this one question, asked as those commenting on the fog. "Are you cold?"

He'd been worrying about the temperature and wetness of the planet and it's affects on a desert bred species since he got the orders. Spock's actions only helped to justify them now.

"Captain, I thoroughly prepared for an away mission with a distinct atmospheric difference to that of my own origins. I assure you, that is not a concern."

"Then what's wrong? You keep-…twitching!" Jim absolutely detested the sight of Spock doing anything outside his realm of stringent prim postures. Kirk would only admit that it made him feel a worry similar to when things were not going accordingly.

"It is of no real importance, Cap-"

"Spock! I don't want to hear it, just tell me what's got you flinching like that."

"Calm down, Jim. It's really nothing to worry about. Vulcans have a different make-up of oils on their skin. This much moisture in the air just doesn't mix well with it. Your poor green-blooded stick-in-the-mud's body is probably just trying to shack off the irritating feeling of wet oils running along his skin. Bet he would hiss like a cat if you dumped him in some water, too."

Spock's posture stiffened considerably at McCoy's explanation, "A most flawed choice of wording, Doctor, but none the less accurate."

Kirk relaxed his shoulders and sighed softly in relief. "My apologies, Mr. Spock. I'm sure once we are permitted to go deeper into their home the conditions should be considerably dryer."

Spock's back flexed and tightened as he gained control of his bodies instinct to rid itself of the water that pulled at his natural oils. Jim was grateful to see the stiff back once more, drawing comfort from the unmovable force.

"So…Do the crystals just absorb your emotional waves? Or are they just pretty?" Kirk asked, rising briskly from his seat and moving over to the group of Hudorians huddled around the dim fire. It wasn't small, but it was still fairly damp inside the cave walls, making the flame fight to stay alight.

Two of the women and one male turned their empty eyes to Kirk before gazing up at the crystals above.

"It is more of a refraction."

The answer came from a back passage that had blended in so completely with the dark wall Kirk would be hard pressed to dispute that it had just appeared out of thin air. Within the frame of the passage way stood the Fishing Chief and his second.

"The waves from emotions travel along the walls and then refract down into the room. It is helpful when there are only a few in a room." The Fishing Chief supplied, his words came out solemn and monotone. "It is true there are better sources to help enhance waves, but this is both affective and appealing."

"It's also an old trick used by our ancestors when they could not seen around a particular bend," The Fishing Second happily picked up the narrative. "They would place crystals at the corner to alert them to anything coming before it had a chance to surprise them. We have advanced passed the need to defend ourselves from such predators. Now, they are merely decoration and a reminder to all."

"That is enough about our past. It is time to see if we will be making a new future with you. The Priestess is ready to see you, but you must leave all of your tools behind. We will have no surprises here."

"May we bring a few torches with us to see by? It's too dark in those caves for our eyes to see and I would prefer not to have my men wandering around completely blind." Kirk's statement brought a shocked looked to the Fishing Second's face, and he glanced over at the fire burning to his left. Kirk smiled and, to show his willingness to follow along with the Hudorians, unhooked his phaser and communicator from his belt before dropping both to the table made from a huge slab of amethyst. It was beautifully ringed with the outer gray rock exterior, and smoothed down to perfectly flat oval. Even the hole in the center had been rid of the jagged edges of the crystal points. McCoy dropped his tricorder, communicator and phaser down, just as Spock was doing the same. The ensigns quickly followed their lead.

With a smart turn on his heels, Kirk presented a disarming smile, "Ready when you are!"

The Fishing Second held out two torches. Spock grabbed one, and Ensign Williams took the other.

"Good. Let us proceed."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

After a rather steep decline, the first couple of meters in the tunnel were reminiscent of the fluent whispers wandering throughout the colorful Rockies. Spiraling pikes left by the ages to give a direct point to a mineral tome. After passing through the swerving trail of stalagmites, Jim was able to over hear Bones' sibilant hissed 'spelunker' before the doctor dropped back to converse with the Farming Chief and his disciples. Jim's eyes quickly turned to the silent vigil on his right. Jim was all too aware of how smug McCoy was going to be. Spock wasn't helping any with his portrayal of a deaf Vulcan.

As they round a rather impressive column nearly reaching the ceiling, the cavern breaks off into 5 diverging paths; that he could see. It was rather disconcerting, as an entire civilization was housed in these walls and with so many different tunnel systems it would be a simply matter to getting lost. As they approached their destined pathway it merely grew in size, but continued to appear as a solid darkness. A big black dot on the wall. The Fishing Second walked into the opening first, taking the torch light with him and bringing streaks to life along the black until it centralized into a deep emptiness. The sight of the same reflective obsidian within the crafted tunnel raised a multitude of questions. Kirk was going to have to hold off on the inquiry until they were not being trailed and surrounded by the accompanying Hudorians, which had increased from its original grouping of about 10 by at least 5 more. The Fishing Chief either brought more reinforcements, or perhaps they were simply all headed in the same direction.

Scintillating twists tease through the tunnel, taking the light into a twirling path towards the focal point. The markings carved into obsidian pulled the flickering flame deep into the endless darkness. Dragging and stretching the glow beyond it's reach. Leaving a void to their eyes at it's center.

At the end of the hall they turned and were greeted by more reaching peaks of an open cavern. A veritable forest of growing stone. Here, Kirk was able to find some stalactites and stalagmites had merged. The sleek thin form from above falling upon the moist mass bellow. They broadcast a false image of an oozing rock having just touched the bottom of the cavern floor, the icicle shaped trails further creating an image of an instantly frozen liquid. The masses creating wrinkles compounding over a great length of time, but without those endless years of striving growth, it would never have amounted to reaching the lover perfectly aligned so they may meet. The hold may be weakest at that joining point, but it would only take time before they meet again.

Kirk always had trouble keeping the muscles around that concaving flesh beneath the left edge of his mouth in line, and as he allowed his strides to shorten, he struggled with that maddening flex once more. It was that very dimple that gave him away to his communications officer each time he tried to cover his 30 PADD pile up, currently blocking the major lanes to the interstellar interstate directly to Starfleet, escape plan as an urgent conference with Scotty about the new addition to the lower engineering room. He was willing to also accept that it was foolish to think Uhura had not picked up that little bit of ship gossip. In light of the new facts surrounding his First and Uhura, with Scotty's penchant for being soft on the lass, it was more likely the man had revealed the distillery himself.

Jim glanced at Bones from the corner of his eye, he found himself in a tightly locked battle against the tremble in his lips from the suppressed laughter as they were parted to mumble, "Jack says cherry pie."

"Dammit Jim!" The doctor whirled to the side, a near about face, to turn his glare upon the man standing to his right. "Can't you just focus on the mission at hand for two minutes?"

"All at once, or can I spread it out in hour intervals?"

"Snark all you want, Kirk, but I ain't bettin'. We all know what's waitin' for you at the end of this hall."

"Captain, I am unable to discern how a priestess of the Hudorian people can be comparable to an encrusted syrup and fruit based tart commonly referenced as being a main source of nutrition to the southern portion of the North Americas."

Out of all the things that quick mind could discern from the short byplay between the two humans on his left, Jim is nearly relieved by this question.

"What your il_lust_rious captain is alluding to, Spock, is that he's found himself another fair maiden in which to charm from her balcony!

Oh Jimeo, Jimeo!"

Bones' pathetic attempts at a falsetto normally had the power to bring his body under such an exhausting weight of laughter that his expanded and hefty lungs were too much for his legs to endure, especially with those ridiculously fluttered lashes. His knees were always the first to give under such an onslaught. Kirk allowed a small portion of his entertainment to release and cave in the tiny spot beneath the raised corner of his lips in a bid to volley back at the smirking doctor. McCoy took that over powering swell of laughter and released it like a bull trying to intimidate; a stiff shake of the head and a rough snort.

"A tragedy, I'm sure."

Kirk lost it.

The affects of McCoy's own mockery had not had a chance to fully subside before Spock's statement was chased by the expressive echo. It left Jim with his head thrown back as if his hair had been skillfully grasped followed by a powerful tug, taking away any semblance of control, reducing his air flow as masterfully as a trained palm with each belly trembling burst of air.

"Spock, if you're not careful people will start to think your claims of ignorance to human jokes are really all just a ruse." Jim's cheeks squeezed in tight and plump as his lips pulled back farther then he was expecting, revealing more pristine porcelain soldiers to Spock.

"An unfortunate assimilation affect from spending a large quantity of time around them, Captain."

"Well, well, well, Spock. You finally starting to be more human, is that it?"

"Negative, Doctor. I was simply stating that after enough exposure to the human need for humorous exchanges an accurate knowledge can be gained. Hardly a cause for such insult."

"Come on, Spock. Surely, by now, you must have found something worthy of note about us humans."

"Certainly, Captain."

After waiting what Jim felt to be a sufficient amount of time, he gave it up around the bend, and into their next black hole. "Well? Spit it out already!"

He watched as the shadows moved higher up Spock's brow, revealing an expanse of smooth acute flesh bathed in light as the sharp eyebrow was woven so intricately with the dark it was ridiculous to even think to separate the two. Kirk figures his attempts are merely due to his need to conquer the impossible. A common occurrence for him, after all.

"A simple turn of phrase, Spock. You gunna tell us or not?"

"I have found that I am often amazed by the human drive for instant gratification."

McCoy's obvious reaction to such a remark was left flapping at Kirk's ears. Spock's eyes remained focused on the speck of nothing beyond their sight. He did not deem it worthy to fully acknowledge Jim. His face was set with each muscle tight and relaxed in a strategic plane running the expanse of it. Leaving Jim to wander through the vast desolation without a clue which direction would lead to a safe haven.

Kirk straightened his spine and brought his jaw into line as his eyes snapped forward to the front of their little precession. He barely spared the second it took to realize that McCoy had gone silent and wonder if that had been before or after Kirk's determined strides to move even with the Fishing Chief.

"Fishing Chief, how much farther is the Priestess?" Kirk questions as soon as he's beside the Hudorian. Playful pizzicato petals pranced upon the proscenium apron as perpetually precocious poka dots pick, prod, and poke at an array of arches. A war of bodies viruses designs, taking over each others spaces upon the wall.

"We are not far, Captain. Soon you will be able to hear the hall of water." The U.T. sputtered briefly over the last word, but settled for water. A true shame, really, to not be able to understand and actually hear these people with every bit of emotion they put into their speech, the U.T. was just not made to encompass all connotations. The overlapping consonants were nothing more than a nuisance, yet to go without would be just as uninformative. He soothed himself with the image of all the excited faces within the communications department. A whole new language that went above and beyond the abilities of the U.T. itself. It would be a serious shock to Kirk if they weren't studying any bits already being transmitted back. No use waiting around for the real data input within their actual U.T.'s to come back. Kirk had to take a deep breath, allowing all the pride to swell and stretch against his chest before releasing it gently back out.

"Is that the only place the Priestess is allowed?" From what he's gathered, it would be unlikely that they kept their female ruler within strict confines. Although, it was never out of the realm of possibility that these people felt the need to keep their prized citizen within their version of safety. Tucked away where nothing else could get at it but them. Hidden from any form of freedom.

"Our Priestess is no prisoner!" Jim was met with the passion filled darkness of the Fishing Chief's eyes. "She represents all the knowledge of our pasts and the future of our advancement." It seemed that he was correct, and his communications was already adjusting to this language as the U.T. gave a soft undercurrent of evolution trailing at the end of the Hudorian's pronouncement. Jim could almost swear he was hearing the fawning dulcets sneaking between the jumbled mesh of barely recognizable phrases tossed between the communications team.

That was odd though, they had a basic concept of evolution already. He'd have to check with Spock exactly what the likelihood of that was. Maybe these Hudorians have been around longer than they first thought. "She speaks with our people in their daily lives and knows each of us by sight_emotion. _It is merely your presence which confines her to this room."

Kirk briefly pulled back the corner of his lip visible to the Chief on his side, looking away from the Fishing Chief's eyes before nodding his head once, sharply. Maybe he was the original father of the Priestess. Or, still is or something.

Snaps and stripes and streaks of strings zag and snag between their lines. Careless collisions coalescing on the ceiling like cobwebs caught in the woods whirling wind as weeping wisps weave betwixt the dribbling designs of barreling waves.

"Our history." The voice came so softly from over his shoulder that Kirk believed he had simply misheard the whisper of the waterfall. His eyes pulled down from their upwards gaze to find the Fishing Chief a good distance away.

"Pardon?" Turning to address his query to the person that spoke revealed a female barely tall enough to level with his chest. Her hand was upon the wall, trailing the carved dips and depressions as though the glossy rock was really the glass it mirrored.

"These markings depict our history. It is only here that it resides. A reminder that our past is just as important as the future we've built upon it." Remarkable, really. They make their own tunnels, but attempt to preserve the natural life of the mountain, yet they leave their own mark on the walls they built within. An oddly divided mixture of nature and cognizant life.

"You'll have to give us a tour of your History after we've spoken with your Priestess." Kirk kept his eyes focused on the Hudorian. The facial muscles upon her forehead could be seen faintly flexing and relaxing in a soft flutter of continuous movement, silver cascading down to hide it. Her focused stare snapped rapidly from his boots, to her legs where the flickering dance of light shadowed and chased after the miniscule twitches, to rest with her head turned away and leaving Kirk with only a view of the careful sway of hair bouncing minutely with her steps. When she finally began to tentatively return her gaze, he was sure to meet her with a fluid parting of lips made plush by their aloof ease. Each muscle fell into place as if fitting into it's destined niche. Creases lining up like foot soldiers at the ready, leaving his lashes to rest in sleepy little blankets over a portion of the blue iris. The increase in exposed black ovals only helped to increase the expansion of his lips, his cheeks just starting to plump. The pale hair swayed in startling motion as she reared back. A thick blue paint was seeping into the pure porcelain pallor of her skin. Jim's eyes nearly vanished beneath their lids as his lips parted completely. His nose tingled and tightened at the sight of the blue blush brought before him. A sharp blink signaled her newly gained self, and her hair accentuated the nod of assent.

"Your confidence is thick and oppressive. It fills up the room and leaves no space for others." Kirk was faced with the Fishing Chief's eyes barely peering out at Kirk behind his hair. It was apparent he was straining his peripheral over his shoulder.

"I don't need any translator to understand he finds you to be an arrogant prick." Kirk wasn't surprised that the mere chance at getting a dig in at Jim's expense had managed to summon his worrisome friend and ever caring doctor. Jim turned to McCoy with pantomimed laughter before realigning his face back into a stern expression. "Captain."

"Flattery will do you no good, Bones."

Clapping cracks wracked upon the eardrums with destructive decibels as audacious drops of auditory assault slammed upon their senses. Boisterous bassoons beat, blast, and bombard the boulders beneath as the aqueduct auditorium averted each echoing oboe. The torches could not touch the top, or even wade through to a surrounding wall outside of the stone path beneath their feet. It was but a simple bubble of struggling light, the fire dancing in a gasping bid for more. The rippling obsidian at their feet revealed the specter on his right.

Kirk wasn't all that surprised to find that Spock had returned to his side now that it was time to get down to business. What did interest him was that Spock's hair was starting to flatten against the Vulcan's head as the added moisture in the cavern saturated each strand. Jim was witness to a fat little deviant slipping down rapidly before breaking free of its gilded cage of silken tresses to lay savage to the Vulcan's cheek like a ghostly caress. The scoundrel even dared to go further, sneaking beneath the thermal wear. A brief flexing in his pectoral revealed a boldness Kirk was not prepared for. The sight of a very faint tremble to Spock's stomach was just far more then he could handle. Kirk quickly brought his eyes up to find that Spock was staring off into the empty dark beyond their torch light. Miniscule lines were burrowing with ruthless determination into the skin at the base of his brows. Jim took a moment to allow his mind a little of what it was yearning for. He envisioned reaching out to give Spock a brisk rub, cutting off another drop at the collarbone. And to keep that water flowing just a little longer, he even pictured rubbing a little more circulation into Spock's arms.

_"Unnecessary, Captain. Vulcan's control the circulation, muscle contractions, and internal-"_

In a sense that one has stood and found they could no longer discern the sensation of the ground beneath their feet after extended periods of stemmed blood flow, Jim was thusly aware he had stopped moving. The image of his world liquefied in a shifting mess. Slipping and wriggling further and further right, writhing with relished sadism as it slid into his gorging eyes. Swallowed down and slithering securely around his stomach. Squeezing with squirming strength until it caves in. His jaw goes lax, falling victim to gravity in sequence with each layer of his insides consumed by the gaping hole left behind in it's wake. He is empty. Cold. His mind glides over time, frozen as it starts to burn out. His consciousness drifts through the past, stumbling as his stability is trembling and shaken out from beneath him at each turn like a fawn released upon the ice to attempt its first graceless steps. Frantic to find shore without anything but more wasteland. His hand snapped out to find an anchor out of this rolling chaos trying to pull him into the frozen waters, leaving him to sink to the icy depths no matter how he struggles.

A loud gasp of air rang out

"Damnit, Jim! Give a man some warning before you go grabbin' 'em in the dark! This better not be some type of childish prank!"

Kirk offered a cheeky grin, and a pat to the arm he had desperately clung to. "We'll be seeing the Priestess soon, you ready?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. Jim needed to start keeping track of how often he was the cause of that. Give him a challenge when he's bored. Maybe Spock would give him a run for his money. "You do know that most children grow out of finding startling others in the dark humorous by the time they reach five, right?"

"Most, Bones. That is the key." Kirk had reached the max amount of irritation he could garner from McCoy on this planet.

"A surprising reaction to such a defining -" An explosion of brilliant song broke through the smothering mouth of the clamorous crescendo around them. It soothed upon the ravaged remains of their ears. Weaving between them like an affection starved cat before warmth bloomed along his back, spreading from along his spine and out to his sides before resting against his aching insides like two bands. The U.T. offered up a measly 'epiphany'. "It tries so heroically to expand to its full potential. It wriggles and squirms like an infant caught in a giggle fit even as the oozing ropes hinder it in a far more desperate bid for preservation. They are ever compounding upon the old with fresh, slick strings. Wrapping and bending and slipping and twisting to keep it in place. A knotted braid that would take weeks to sort out."

The Fishing Chief walked straight to the elderly Hudorian that took form at the edge of their sparkling sphere. Her eyes remained trained on Kirk. The sinkhole of spatial gray dust surrounding the inescapable singularity within the center of her aged eyes filled him with the equally tenacious grip to the ever swallowing realization that this creature was blind. She, in turn, gave an acknowledging nod to Kirk and McCoy, stock strands of symbiotic anemone sway and wind in a show of her own level of awareness. Those startling orbs were contained within a face well worn by emotions. Deep trenches dug out through the years of laughter around her eyes left flutters of recollection in his stomach.

Her hand rested upon the Fishing Chief's shoulder delicately as he moved to one knee before her, hair falling in a matrimonial veil. "Priestess."

The shadowed canyons grew in depth and length as she turned to the man at her feet. From his shoulder, her sturdy grip moved to cautiously pull back the veil to reveal that affection to the man beneath. There was something unique about the way she touched those pale hairs. As the wrinkled flesh glided through the hairs, it was as though they wished to stroke each individual thread. Watching them cling and grasp to the divots in her skin, but she didn't seek to untangle or stroke his head. Jim was snapped from his musings by McCoy's snide "Make it an 80 year old."

"I thank you for bringing them. I am aware of your difficulty with this decision. Your faith in me is a true gift not even the ocean can provide." Kirk watched the Fishing Chief's eyes drift over her body. A belly boasting of the respect and care she has received from her peoples' plying over her lifetime. A truly voluptuous and curved shape hidden beneath the compiling years.

"Priestess, it is a pleasure to meet you. How can we show you we mean you and your people no harm?" Kirk's arms spread wide to reveal nothing hidden. The Priestess' hand reached out once more to flutter and pet the aged grey strands of the Fishing Chief before taking the careful steps of distance left before her eye's filled his vision. The added warmth on his right of Spock's own advancement added to the Vulcan's chances of disabling the Priestess. Not even this show of fragility could sway his First, and yet the Hudoran's with an open vantage point had their palms upon their weapons. Her hands located his face with gentle accuracy, further drawing him into the consuming gravity of her eyes pulling him under once more. The gray circlet at the center spokes out from the ever expanding collision between the void and light into the vast darkness. Each spoke touched and blended with another. A reflection of emptiness.

_"Jim"_

Sometimes, Jim really hated mirrors. They were always this cold shock of reality. In front of that delicate glass there is no escape. What it is your eyes meet in astonishment during that fraction of time expanded into infinite is who you are. This is who you are, and yet it is as though when you aren't faced with it so avidly you can forget, or even imagine parts. A complete bare- exposure. To try and deny that image is completely il.

There is no captain There

Just Jim.

Navy lines appear in fleshy brackets around the reflected emptiness. The constriction that squiggled in his insides loosened a fraction, his lungs expanding to take in as much air as possible, filling his chest to the point of popping, lifting his shoulders in a helium like effervescence.

"Captain!"

The gray eyes vanished as the Priestess turned to the left, the deep blue crinkled and darkened around her eyes as she took in his First. Kirk became aware of the tight grip on his left arm, which revealed McCoy at his shoulder. The cracks and divots around his mouth where burrowed rather deeply.

"Damnit, Jim. All you've done today is give us all a fright."

"Unseen." This soft phrase brought the Fishing Chief to his feet and beside his Priestess before Spock's eyebrow even finished its obligatory arch. "Yet, not hidden." The Fishing Chief calmed at those words, but remained unmoving by her side.

"You are no threat to our way of life, nor our oceans. Trust will still be hard earned among the people, but no longer do we expect betrayal openly. Your people are muddled and conflicted. Your interests and views are easily shaken, but as a whole you seek only freedom and peace. I see no harm in fashioning a new future based upon your species vast and extensive past." The Fishing Chief still looked perturbed, but Kirk was going to consider this a battle won.

"Our people will need to get together first. Each individual is part of our voice. They will have their turns to speak as is their right. I will also visit the clans to get a feel for the communities preferences. It will take us some time to hear all. You are welcome to explore our way until we are prepared to discuss your involvement with our people."

Kirk raised his head in acknowledgement, "Until you have gathered your Intel, would it be possible for us to have small groups of scientist survey and study the truly unique life that has developed upon your planet?" Jim was only capable of putting the Fishing Chief on edge. "We only seek to satisfy our curiosity. Your lives are your own. Our species believes in a strict adherence to the Prime Directive."

"I am sure there are those that seek to know you better within our people too. We will locate those willing to teach and learn to accompany your people."

"I will be the one to show our ways to Captain James Kirk." The sudden illumination of a shimmering sallow body startled the Fishing Chief far more than Kirk who was actually witness to the near ethereal appearance. Her curves did not hold the accumulation acquired after years of a sedate lifestyle like the elderly women before them, but it did hint of an almost pampered way of living. It was not out of any perceived laziness, but the added volume gathered at hip and chest expressed a view of a healthy beauty. The people provided the service of food while they offered stability, authority, and order. The white ring spiraled within her black gaze and extensive length of silver strands revealed her clear correlation to the Priestess.

This was proved correct when the Fishing Chief turned sharply at her voice, his sharp tones unveiling the surprised panic. "Priestess!"

It came out in a higher pitch, yet the note lingered longer. A curious difference that left Kirk puzzled to it's origins.

"You should not be around the Off-Worlders! The Priestess is more than capable of dealing with them without your safeties being compromised. It is most important that you stay away from the Off-Worlders." The Fishing Chief's body easily eclipsed the younger Priestess as he moved in close to her, his arms stretched out wide to corral her back into the darkness. She was not swayed by his attempts in the slightest, returning his approaching girth with an obstinate stance and a haughty glare.

"Of all those present, Fishing Chief, I believe those that keep our history are the ones most vital in this. Are you charged with the knowledge of all our pasts?"

The Fishing Chief tightened his back to bring himself to his daunting height above the Priestess, bringing her eyes level to his chest, which she promptly jabbed with her finger once he was close enough, forcing the Chief to sway back from the force.

"No! You're not. That privilege is bequeathed to me! I would prefer to have my knowledge acquired, not second hand. It is imperative that I learn all I can."

"You still have many years to come, Priestess. Do not rush the exchange between you and the Priestess." The two slip between the scales to reach the other, a mess of octaves and pitches that tangle and clash.

"Many years to assist our people in becoming an even better whole!"

Wisps of light shimmered and glided along the ghostly strands as the elderly Priestess turned to the younger and the Fishing Chief. Her hand rested on his shoulder, finger tips teasing at his hairs. The duned flesh of forehead leaned to rest upon the younger, her eyes closing and face going completely lax.

"Her words flow truth, Fishing Chief. It is her right, and she is of age now."

The Fishing Chief's tune lost it's jagged quality, "Her journey has only just begun. That does not mean she is prepared for these others."

Kirk watched the wrinkled face tunnel brackets around her sightless gaze, as she shifted her attentions to him.

"I will always hear you, my Fishing Chief. I believe it is best to have her take an active role in this transformation. I would also have your second or another of your choosing to accompany."

The Fishing Chief's face fell at her words. His hand reached out to grasp her delicate wrist, gently pulling it back from his hair, his eyes groveled before her gaze. A bid for an understanding she was visionless too. "I will send my choice when you are prepared."

As soon as her wrist was released, the crinkled flesh reached out once more to cup his cheek. "I know what this is costing you. Your gift to me will not go unnoticed."

As she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his own, he turned his head to deter her. "Do not, my Priestess." His own hand reached to take hers. Kirk counted a good second or two where hands and face held in a brief display of tension, comfort, and compromise. The Fishing Chief pulled his hand away, releasing it to motion his two fingers in a summons. The Fishing Second stepped forward beside the child like Priestess, the torch in his grip stretching their vision with more darkness surrounding. The path beneath their feet continued on without a visible end. The Fishing Chief turned to face the Starfleet officers.

"Where would you like to begin this study?"

This brought a youthful smile to his face. "We do not have to re-establish contact with our ship for another…"

"43.67 minutes."

"So we would be more then pleased to have a brief tour in the mean time. Then we can discuss at lengths my officers learning your culture."

The Fishing Chief nodded waving to his second to lead them out.


End file.
